You're who? And I'm a what?
by RendramorRequiem
Summary: Puck is a werewolf, but doesn't know it. Nor did he know his parents are werewolves as well. Or that people he grew up calling his 'family' actually aren't. Puck's life has been a lie and for a good reason. And why is it Finn doesn't find the news of Puck's Lycanthropy weird? Pretty confusing, right?...established Finn/Puck relationship.
1. Stalk Hunt Kill

**A/N**: This story came to me as a super weird dream after being up for nearly 3 days. *Total insomnia to blame...* Rated M, 'cause of the language, violence, gore, and some lovin'; all that good cheese...Anyway, I hope you enjoy this supernatural fic. I apologize if the characters don't seem as Canon as you think they should be; they're written as how I see them when I watch show...Oh yeah! The couples who will be featured in this fic, and will also have some sort of importance, hopefully in the later chapters: Finn/Puck***of course!***, Kurt/Blaine, and Brittany/Santana.

Before I forget, **I don't own Glee or anything that makes Glee, well Glee.** Ryan Murphy does, and for that we thank him for such an interesting show. ...and last but not least, **R.I.P** Cory Monteith. He turned Finn into one of my favorite characters in the show, and he will forever be missed.

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***Some where in Texas, 3am...***

The streets were bare under the cloud-covered moon; the constant stream of footsteps caused by whose who lived in the city were absent. The only noises our ears picked up earlier in the evening were the faint sirens of an ambulance rushing by, speeding down the highway as it rushed to save an unfortunate victim. Just as we thought the evening had resulted in failure, we caught it; a faint scent reached our noses, stirring what was forced to be dormant within us during the daylight hours.

We did what we did best; we ran.

It was all we could really do at the moment. The animal within us wouldn't allow us to do anything else. Not that we wanted to do anyway. The fear their bodies emitted; staining the air around us like a silver vapor leaving a trail in their wake made it easier for us to track them. When will they fucking learn?

**We thrive on the chase**. _Stalk. Hunt. Kill. Stalk. Hunt. Kill._

The mantra continuously repeated in our minds as we closed in on them. They thought they could strike at us with their mortal weapons. How _fucking_ pathetic. How fucking _human_ of them. If they were young, still considered babes in our eyes, we would have let them live. Yeah. _Maybe _we would have.

Good thing they weren't children; it would be great once we killed them. To watch as their breaths staggered, to hear their hearts as they ceased to beat; they would learn it was unwise to taunt us with their pathetic attempts to rid us from this world. They couldn't kill us easily; We weren't weak, as we most certainty weren't human. We have roamed the earth far longer than they have been alive. A fact which has aided in our survival, especially now.

The words of our prey held no value to us. Their pleas of mercy, cries of vengeance for our misdeeds; none of it ever mattered, until tonight...

The man whose throat I held in my tightened grip -he couldn't have been older than twenty-seven, give or take a few years- shed no fearful tears. Blood coated his teeth as I straddled his chest, both arms useless after I had broken them. I grabbed one of the bones sticking out of the skin near his elbow and twisted, smirking as his mouth opens in a silent scream. The man wheezes, his chest vibrating beneath my thighs. "Kill me you stupid bitch! It won't change the fact we know where he is. We've known for quite some time."

I dig my nails into his throat, piercing the flesh below his jaw. I brought my face close to the man's, his stench making my nose scrunch up in disgust. "What makes you think I believe you, meat?" I spat, baring my teeth.

Blood trailed down from the corner of the man's mouth as he spoke. "It's our job to know where the young ones are. They're so much easier to torture, especially after they-"

I killed him before he finished his sentence; ripping out his sorry excuse of an esophagus with a flick of my wrist, my nails slicing the delicate flesh. Blood splatters across my chest from the action; a gargling sound escaped what was left of his throat before his body stilled, eyes remaining open as I stood up.

Turning to my right, I notice my mate licking blood from his hand; his jaw completely covered by the crimson liquid, making his beard appear darker. His victim was unrecognizable; their face was entirely torn off, jaw ripped from head, leaving the tongue to dangle freely near what remained of their throat. I could tell by the size of the body the human had been a young male; they couldn't have been any older than twenty. The boy's chest had been slashed by ivory nails, fractured pieces of bone stuck inward, puncturing the delicate lungs beneath them. Pectoral muscle was ripped apart, exposing the boy's stilled heart to the world. Looking down at the mangled remains, I'd say I gave my victim a merciful death.

"Are you alright?" my mate asks, sensing my mood.

I didn't want to tell him what was said; it could have been lies, just a rouse to instill fear into us. And yet, I felt what the man had uttered was entirely true, which only angered me more. "They know where he is, Noam."

My mates eyes narrowed as the words left my mouth, setting his attention to the corpse by my feet. He remained silent; fists tightening by his waist as he went to the man I killed. He lifted his bare foot over the man's head before bringing it back down, crushing my victim's skull without difficulty. "It's time he learns the truth."

I didn't argue my mates decision; it has been too long since we've last seen him. I wondered if he would remember us. We dump the bodies in the alley: when the police found our victims, and they surely would, they would believe a wild animal had gotten to the men, leaving us clean from detection. My mate and I would not be exposed; we were killers by nature, but we weren't stupid.

We left the city before sunrise, making our way back to our old home.

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**A/N:** This will hopefully be the only short chapter in this fic. Thanks for reading! Please review! Chapter 2 will soon follow...


	2. McKinley High Still Sucks

**A/N**: Sorry for taking so long! Damn writer's block and insomnia are never a good together, especially when **Everclear** is added into the mix. ***snickers*** Thanks for the reviews! They made me feel like this story isn't all total crap. I guess I should let you get on with the reading...Here is next chapter! Enjoy! Oh yeah, before I forget, totally unbeta'd, so if you spot mistakes and all that, please let me know. Thanks!

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**Chapter 2:**

_McKinley High still sucks the second time around._

Walking through the halls of McKinley brought back so many memories from the past; the teased hair kept together by pounds of aerosol, the over use of neon colors clashing with outrages patterns, the fucking _acid-wash denim_. The urge to regurgitate nearly overwhelmed me; I shook my head as I kept on walking.

The scents of all the students passing by filled my nose; those who showered too much and reeked of cheap soap, those who definitely didn't bathe, those who used too much cologne to mask their irritating musk, even the others who were in desperate need of it.

How the hell did I survive this last time? The decision to come back as a student was beginning to become a mistake. It would have been easier to pose as a substitute teacher; _Gaia_ knew I had the intellect to teach any subject in this forsaken institution they called High School.

Reaching the main office I stood in front of the secretary's desk, immediately recognizing the elderly woman sitting behind it; she was the same woman who worked here when I had first attended McKinley. I never bothered to remember her name, even now. Oh well, it was always fun to fuck with a person's head, no matter their age.

"Hey," I greeted, getting the woman's attention. "Here to pick up my schedule; I'm new."

The secretary, who now had a full head of grey and wore glasses covering most of her wrinkled face looked up; her eyes widen in shock at my appearance for a few seconds before composing herself. "Oh, oh yes, my dear." The woman turned around, fiddling with a stack of papers before lifting a sheet, handing it to me. "Welcome to William McKinley High, miss... Johnnie Margera. Oh my, I believed you were a boy when I read the name, my apologies; your parents must be one of those New Age people who give their children unique names, aren't they?"

Not even a stuttering word? Was I not intimidating anymore? Nah, she was just honestly senile to know any different. Where was the fun in that? "Totally," I replied, faking a smile, "That's me, Johnnie Margera; all girl here." What the flying fuck? _Johnnie Margera_? Noam couldn't have come up with a better, more _feminine_ name to give me during our time here? I knew watching all those _Jackass_ films would come to haunt my ass someday; I was going to _maim_ him for ever picking such a ridiculous name for me.

My morning was already turning out shitty; Damn you Noam, you jackass. **Full pun intended**.

***GleeGleeGleeGlee***

I was contemplating ditching the student gig and considering sniffing my way around this cow town by the time I reached my third period class, arriving early. I snickered when I realized I had been given my old locker; some things never change.

Walking into my English class, a familiar scent hit me like an epic _bitch slap_ to the face, causing me to stop mid-way through the door. It had been years since I've come across such a smell, it took everything in my power not to howl in delight.

The teacher noticed me, coughing as I turned my attention to him. Handing the middle-aged man my note, he gave me a simple greeting before telling me to sit down, quietly muttering about how another punk was added to his roster. Oh please, he would know how much of a _punk_ I was capable of being if he truly pissed me off. _Fucking human_.

Finding an empty seat near the back of the class, my eyes scanned the classroom, taking note of all the scents filling the air. The sheer overload of it all nearly gave me a minor headache I chose to ignore; I always hated being in confined spaces such as this. The windows were never opened, leaving the stale air trapped within the walls of the classroom to accumulate the wretched smells of the youth surrounding me.

The faint signature of the boy I was searching for came across my senses; He was here, that much I was certain. I inhaled deeply, desperate to corner the scent I so desired.

"Hey."

My eyes snap to the young male sitting next to me, his smell mixed with the scent I was searching for. My nose twitches lightly, taking in the delicate aroma; the boy who grabbed my attention looked oddly familiar. "Hi," I reply, not even bothering to smile.

"I'm Finn Hudson, are you new?" the boy smiles a dopey half-smile. "Not many girls have Mohawks here."

My eyebrow raises, the name jogs my memory; I knew the kid when he was just a toddler before I left this shit hole of a town. His features were nearly identical to his father I knew was long gone from this world. Finn Hudson has grown a lot since the last time I've seen him. "Chicks here can't rock the 'hawk like I do," I reply, smirking. "It's my first day in town. Name's ... Johnnie."

"You have a dude's name?" Finn comments, looking at me with a child's curiosity.

"So I've been told." I reply, taking out a notebook from the backpack I carried. "You got something against girls with male names?"

"No, not at all," Finn answers quickly as he shakes his head, looking like he was about to get smacked. "Sorry, you just look like somebody I knew. Are you sure this is your first day in Lima?"

"Totally sure, big boy. Never been anywhere near this cow town until today," I lied. Did he really remember me from before? No, it couldn't be it; the boy had been so young when I saw him last, surely he didn't recognize me from back then. I didn't even look the same, hence the Mohawk I was now sporting.

"It might have been your twin." He tilts his head to the side. "Everybody has a Doppler running around in the world."

"I believe what you're referring to is a Doppelganger," I correct him, keeping my laughter at low volume. The boy was actually entertaining to speak to. "You actually believe in that crap?"

"I always get the name mixed up," Finn gives me the same half-smile. "Sure I believe in Doppelgangers; there's a lot of stuff out there that has to be true. You know, I've never met mine so I can't be sure if I even have one."

"You're-" The scent hits me again, causing me to bristle as my eyes scrutinize the entire classroom once more. A low growl travels up my throat, attempting to pass my lips; _he_ really was here.

My eyes land on the figure walking toward our direction, his scent nearly suffocating me as he swaggered like he owned the place. The boy was no longer the small child from my memories; standing over six feet, tanned skinned and broad-shouldered with enough muscles underneath the red Letterman jacket he wore to rival my mate's. He even had the same hairstyle as me, making me swell with pride. The boy walking before me was a true wolf, he just didn't know it, _yet_.

"Who's the new chick?" A pair of hazel eyes land on my own, giving me the once-over.

"This is Johnnie," Finn says, answering the boy's question. "It's her first day at McKinley."

"Johnnie? Sounds like a dude's name," the boy smirks as places his hands on my desk, practically hovering over me. My inner wolf fought hard to come to the surface, wanting to make the boy submit for crowding me. "Hate to break it you but you're sitting in my seat, newbie."

Hearing his little remark was the last straw on my already short restraint; I was so done with this '_you have a dude's name_' business, like fucking yesterday. "You should find yourself another seat then," I spat, glaring at the Mohawked boy. "Preferably somewhere near this one," I point to Finn, my smirking mirroring the boy standing before me, "Since you two _reek_ of each other."

"You wanna run that by me again?" His jaw clenched as he stared me down. If I was still human then his stance would have intimidated me. _Would have_.

"I smell like Puck?" Finn asked in confusion, breaking the intense glare the other boy and I were giving each other as he sniffed the collar of his striped Polo shirt, "I don't smell anything."

"It's not the shirt I _smell _on you," I said, rising from my seat, giving the boy named Puck one more glance. "Later big boy, it was interesting talking with you," I gave Finn a quick nod and started walking to the door.

"You can't leave-" I give the male teacher the finger as I left the shitty excuse of a classroom, my patience nonexistent before the bell rang, signaling the beginning of class.

***GleeGleeGleeGlee***

I arrive at the house we were inhabiting for the time being; it was the same one-story home Noam and I lived in nearly two decades earlier. The irony of it all. Walking through the front door, I smell the meat Noam bought at the butchers sitting out on the counter in the kitchen.

Making my way to the kitchen, I drop my backpack on the bare dining table (for appearances, obviously) and grab the plate of rare livers, taking one of the red slices and sinking my teeth into it, humming loudly in satisfaction.

"You couldn't wait for me, Reinhilde?" A voice behind me questions.

I turn around, the liver still in my mouth as I smile, feeling blood drip down my chin. Tearing a small bite, I chew it a few times before I speak. "You try eating the crap they call '_food'_ at that school and see if I wait for you."

"Since when do you eat cafeteria food?" Noam takes a piece of liver off the plate, consuming it slowly.

"Since you decided to have me pose as student. And seriously? You couldn't have come up with a better name than _Johnnie_ fucking_ Margera_? Were you fucking high when you forged the records?" I watched as Noam bared his teeth, a low growl escaping his throat for my raised tone. I instantly tilt my head to the side, exposing my throat to the man.

"I thought you would get a laugh out of it," Noam utters after lightly biting my throat, his teeth not even breaking skin. "I knew how much you cared for those films; you were always more human than you cared to admit."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I place the plate back on the counter, wiping the blood from my chin before I speak, "I found our son by the way."

My mate's posture doesn't change by the news; he knew we would find him immediately. "Does he still go by his given name?"

"Sort of," I reply, smirking at the memory of hearing the name, "Others call him, Puck."

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**A/N**: Hopefully I haven't disappointed you too badly with this chapter. I was watching **Jackass** when I was writing this so the name came from there, obviously! LMAO. Please review! :) Criticism helps us all become better writers, and that's after we've had a good cry with a pint of Ben&Jerry's. Or maybe it's just me who does that? lol Gonna start on the next chapter, hopefully it won't take as long as this one did. Peace Out!


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